■.JiM'RY 



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• WATSON GILDER 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



CIiap._. Copyright No..... 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



"FOR THE COUNTRY" 



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THE NEW DAY 




THE CELESTIAL PASSION 


LYRICS 




TWO WORLDS 




THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 


THE ABOVE ALSO IN ONE VOLUME ENTITLED 


FIVE BOOKS OF SONG 



"FOR THE COUNTRY" 



BY 



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RICHARD WATSON GILDER 




NEW YORK \ "1*1-1 

THE CENTURY CO. 
1897 



S-CA 



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Copyright, 1885, 1887, 1891, 1893, 
1894, 1896, 1897, 

Bv Richard Watson Gilder 

All rights reserved 



THE DE VINNE PRESS 






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PREFACE. 

The spirit of the war for the Union had noble 
utterance in the poetry of the North, and in some 
of the Southern literature there was the true 
" lyric cry." The period from the end of the war 
to the closing years of the century, although a 
time of strenuous action, has been also a period 
of tender and heroic recollection. In this respect 
it has had distinguished expression, culminating 
in the Commemoration Ode of Lowell. And yet 
it would seem not too presumptuous for the author 
to hope that the present collection, however inade- 
quate, may be found to have an interest of its 
own as voicing the sentiment of those, in this 
later period, who have seen comrades, comman- 
ders, and leaders one by one pass from their 
living sight. 

The author has, indeed, been led to believe 
that the bringing together in a single volume of 



viii PREFACE. 

these verses — in most part of martial reminis- 
cence, of comradeship, of national reunion, and 
of the praise of heroes — might give pleasure to 
old soldiers, as well as to others for whom the 
war is yet a vivid remembrance. He has hoped, 
moreover, that the volume might serve a timely 
and patriotic purpose, because of its devotion 
to the idea of a vital and enduring nationality, 
and of a citizenship that should be as fervent, 
self-sacrificing, and courageous in time of peace 
as in the days when drum and bugle sounded 
to battle. 

R. W. G. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Washington at Trenton. (The Battle Monument ; 
Trenton, New Jersey, October 19th, 1893.) . . . 1 

The Life-Mask of Abraham Lincoln .... 4 

To the Spirit of Abraham Lincoln. (Reunion at 
Gettysburg twenty-five years after the battle. Read 
at the dedication of the monument of the 40th New 
York Volunteers. ) 6 

The Burial of Grant. (New York, August 8th, 
1885.) 8 

The Dead Comrade. (At the burial of Grant a 
bugler stood forth and sounded "taps.") . . .12 

Sheridan. (Died August 5th, 1888.) 15 

Sherman. (Died February 14th, 1891.) 19 

" Pro Patria " : In Memory of a Faithful Chap- 
lain. (Rev. William Henry Gilder, of the 40th 
New York Volunteers. ) 22 

Memorial Day 29 



x CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

The North to the South. (New Orleans, 1885.). 31 

The Great Remembrance. (Read at the Annual 
Reunion of the Society of the Army of the Poto- 
mac, Faneuil Hall, Boston, June 27th, 1893.) . . 32 

"Navies nor Armies Can Exalt the State." 
(To James Russell Lowell, on his Seventieth Birth- 
day, February 22nd, 1889.) 51 

Lowell 52 

Scorn 57 

Failure and Success 59 

A Hero of Peace : In Memory of Robert Ross. 
(Shot at Troy, New York, on Election-day, March 
6th, 1 894, while defending the freedom of the ballot. ) 60 

A Winter Twilight in Provence 63 

The Heroic Age 68 



"FOR THE COUNTRY" 



"FOR THE COUNTRY" 

WASHINGTON AT TRENTON. 

THE BATTLE MONUMENT, OCTOBER 19, 1 893. 

Since ancient Time began 

Ever on some great soul God laid an infinite 
burden — 
The weight of all this world, the hopes of man. 
Conflict and pain and fame immortal are his 
guerdon ! 

And this the unfaltering token 

Of him, the Deliverer — what though tempests 
beat, 



2 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Though all else fail, though bravest ranks be 
broken, 
He stands unscared, alone, nor ever knows 
defeat. 

Such was that man of men ; 

And if are praised all virtues, every fame 
Most noble, highest, purest — then, ah ! then, 

Upleaps in every heart the name none needs to 
name. 

Ye who defeated, 'whelmed, 

Betray the sacred cause, let go the trust ; 
Sleep, weary, while the vessel drifts unhelmed ; 

Here see in triumph rise the hero from the dust. 



WASHINGTON AT TRENTON 3 

All ye who fight forlorn 

'Gainst fate and failure ; ye who proudly cope 
With evil high enthroned ; all ye who scorn 

Life from Dishonor's hand, here take new heart 
of hope. 

Here know how Victory borrows 

For the brave soul a front as of disaster, 

And in the bannered East what glorious morrows 
For all the blackness of the night speed surer, 
faster. 

Know by this pillared sign 

For what brief while the powers of earth and 
hell 
Can war against the spirit of truth divine, 

Or can against the heroic heart of man prevail. 



THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM 
LINCOLN. 

This bronze doth keep the very form and mold 
Of our great martyr's face. Yes, this is he : 
That brow all wisdom, all benignity ; 
That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks 
that hold 

Like some harsh landscape all the summer's gold; 
That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea 
For storms to beat on; the lone agony 
Those silent, patient lips too well foretold. 



THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 5 

Yes, this is he who ruled a world of men 

As might some prophet of the elder day — 
Brooding above the tempest and the fray 
With deep-eyed thought and more than mortal 
ken. 
A power was his beyond the touch of art 
Or armed strength — his pure and mighty 
heart. 



TO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

REUNION AT GETTYSBURG TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER 
THE BATTLE. 

Shade of our greatest, O look down to-day ! 
Here the long, dread midsummer battle roared, 
And brother in brother plunged the accursed 

sword ; — 
Here foe meets foe once more in proud array, 

Yet not as once to harry and to slay, 

But to strike hands, and with sublime accord 
Weep tears heroic for the souls that soared 
Quick from earth's carnage to the starry way. 



TO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 7 

Each fought for what he deemed the people's good, 
And proved his bravery by his offered life, 
And sealed his honor with his outpoured blood ; 

But the Eternal did direct the strife, 

And on this sacred field one patriot host 
Now calls thee father, — dear, majestic ghost ! 



THE BURIAL OF GRANT. 

NEW-YORK, AUGUST 8, 1885. 
I. 

Ye living soldiers of the mighty war,, 

Once more from roaring cannon, and the drums, 
And bugles blown at morn the summons comes; 
Forget the halting limb, each wound and scar : 
Once more your Captain calls to you ; 
Come to his last review ! 

11. 
And come ye, too, bright spirits of the dead, 
Ye who flamed heavenward from the embattled 
field: 



THE BURIAL OF GRANT 9 

And ye whose harder fate it was to yield 
Life from the loathful prison or anguished bed ; 
Dear ghosts ! come join your comrades here 
Beside this sacred bier. 

III. 

Nor be ye absent, ye immortal band, — 
Warriors of ages past, and our own age, — 
Who drew the sword for right, and not in rage, 
Made war that peace might live in all the land, 
Nor ever struck one vengeful blow, 
But helped the fallen foe. 

IV. 

And fail not ye, — but, ah, ye falter not 
To join his army of the dead and living, — 
Ye who once felt his might, and his forgiving ; 



io "FOR THE COUNTRY " 

Brothers, whom more in love than hate he smote. 
For all his countrymen make room 
By our great hero's tomb ! 

v. 
Come soldiers, — not to battle as of yore, 

But come to weep ; ay, shed your noblest tears ; 
For lo, the stubborn chief, who knew not fears, 
Lies cold at last, ye shall not see him more. 
How long grim Death he fought and well, 
That poor, lean frame doth tell. 

VI. 

All 's over now ; here let our Captain rest, 
Silent amid the blare of praise and blame ; 
Here let him rest, while never rests his fame ; 



THE BURIAL OF GRANT II 

Here in the city's heart he loved the best, 
And where our sons his tomb may see 
To make them brave as he ; — 

VII. 

As brave as he — he on whose iron arm 
Our Greatest leaned, our gentlest and most 

wise; 
Leaned when all other help seemed mocking 
lies, 
While this one soldier checked the tide of harm, 
And they together saved the state, 
And made it free and great. 



THE DEAD COMRADE. 

At the burial of Grant, a bugler stood forth and sounded " taps." 
I. 

Come, soldiers, arouse ye ! 
Another has gone ; 
Let us bury our comrade, 
His battles are done. 
His sun it is set ; 
He was true, he was brave, 
He feared not the grave, 
There is nought to regret. 



THE DEAD COMRADE 13 

II. 
Bring music and banners 
And wreaths for his bier — 
No fault of the fighter 
That Death conquered here. 

Bring him home ne'er to rove, 
Bear him home to his rest, 
And over his breast 
Fold the flag of his love. 

III. 
Great Captain of battles, 
We leave him with thee ! 
What was wrong, O forgive it ; 
His spirit make free. 

Sound taps, and away ! 



H "FOR THE COUNTRY 

Out lights, and to bed ! 
Farewell, soldier dead ! 
Farewell — for a day. 



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SHERIDAN. 

i. 

Quietly, like a child 

That sinks in slumber mild, 
No pain or troubled thought his well-earned 

peace to mar, 
Sank into endless rest our thunder-bolt of war. 

II. 

Though his the power to smite 

Quick as the lightning's light, — 
His single arm an army, and his name a host, — 
Not his the love of blood, the warrior's cruel 
boast. 



16 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

III. 
But in the battle's flame 
How glorious he came ! — 
Even like a white-combed wave that breaks and 

tears the shore, 
While wreck lies strewn behind, and terror flies 
before. 



IV. 

T was he, — his voice, his might, — 
Could stay the panic flight, 
Alone shame back the headlong, many-leagued 

retreat, 
And turn to evening triumph morning's foul 
defeat. 



SHERIDAN 17 

V. 
He was our modern Mars ; 
Yet firm his faith that wars 
Ere long would cease to vex the sad, ensanguined 

earth, 
And peace forever reign, as at Christ's holy birth. 



VI. 

Blest land, in whose dark hour 
Arise to loftiest power 
No dazzlers of the sword to play the tyrant's 

part, 
But patriot- soldiers, true and pure and high of 
heart! 



18 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

VII. 
Of such our chief of all ; 
And he who broke the wall 
Of civil strife in twain, no more to build or mend; 
And he who hath this day made Death his faith- 
ful friend. 

VIII. 
And now above his tomb 
From out the eternal gloom 
" Welcome!" his chieftain's voice sounds o'er the 

cannon's knell; 
And of the three one only stays to say " Farewell ! " 






SHERMAN. 

I. 
Glory and honor and fame and everlasting 

laudation 
For our captains who loved not war, but fought 

for the life of the nation ; 
Who knew that in all the land, one slave meant 

strife, not peace; 
Who fought for freedom, not glory; made war 

that war might cease. 



20 "FOR THE COUNTRY » 

II. 
Glory and honor and fame; the beating of muffled 

drums; 
The wailing funeral dirge, as the flag-wrapped 

coffin comes. 
Fame and honor and glory, and joy for a noble 

soul, 
For a full and splendid life, and laureled rest at 

the goal. 



III. 

Glory and honor and fame ; the pomp that a sol- 
dier prizes ; 

The league-long waving line as the marching falls 
and rises : 






SHERMAN 21 

Rumbling of caissons and guns; the clatter of 
horses' feet, 

And a million awe-struck faces far down the wait- 
ing street. 



IV. 
But better than martial woe, and the pageant of 

civic sorrow ; 
Better than praise of to-day, or the statue we build 

to-morrow ; 
Better than honor and glory, and History's iron 

pen, 
Was the thought of duty done and the love of his 

fellow- men. 



"PRO P ATRIA." 

IN MEMORY OF A FAITHFUL CHAPLAIN.* 
I. 

Erewhile I sang the praise of them whose lus- 
trous names 

Flashed in war's dreadful flames ; 
Who rose in glory, and in splendor, and in might 

To fame's sequestered height. 

II. 
Honor to all, for each his honors meekly carried, 
Nor e'er the conquered harried ; 

* The chaplain referred to lost his life through taking upon himself 
the visitation of the army smallpox hospital, near the camp of his 
regiment, the 40th New York Volunteers, at Brandy Station, Virginia, 
April, 1864. 



"PRO PATRIA" 23 

All honor, for they sought alone to serve the 
state — 
Not merely to be great. 

III. 
Yes, while the glorious past our grateful memory 
craves, 
And while yon bright flag waves, 
Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, the peerless 
four, 
Shall live forevermore ; 

IV. 
Shall shine the eternal stars of stern and loyal 
love, 
All other stars above ; 



24 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

The imperial nation they made one, at last, and 
free, 
Their monument shall be. 

v. 

Ah yes ! but ne'er may we forget the praise to 
sound 
Of the brave souls that found 
Death in the myriad ranks, 'mid blood, and 
groans, and stenches — 
Tombs in the abhorred trenches. 

VI. 
Comrades! To-day a tear- wet garland I would 
bring — 
But one song let me sing, 



"PRO PATRIA" 25 

For one sole hero of my heart and desolate home; 
Come with me, Comrades, come! 

VII. 
Bring your glad flowers, your flags, for this one 
humble grave; 
For, Soldiers, he was brave! 
Though fell not he before the cannon's burning 
breath, 
Yet noble was his death. 

VIII. 
True soldier of his country and the sacred cross, — 

He counted gain, not loss, 
Perils and nameless horrors of the shattered field, 

While he had help to yield. 



26 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

IX. 
But not where 'mid wild cheers the awful battle 
broke, — 
A hell of fire and smoke, — 
He to heroic death went forth with soul elate ; 
Harder his lonely fate. 

x. 

Searching where most was needed, worst of all 
endured, 

Sufferers he found immured, — 
Tented apart because of fatal, foul disease, — 

Balm brought he unto these ; 

XI. 
Celestial balm, the spirit's holy ministry, 
He brought, and only he ; 



"PRO P ATRIA" 27 

Where men who blanched not at the battle's 
shell and shot 
Trembled, and entered not. 

XII. 

Yet life to him was, oh, most dear, — home, 
children, wife, — 

But, dearer still than life, 
Duty — that passion of the soul which from the sod 

Alone lifts man to God. 



XIII. 
The pest-house entering fearless — stricken he 
fearless fell, 
Knowing that all was well ; 



28 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

The high, mysterious Power whereof mankind 
has dreamed 
To him not distant seemed. 

XIV. 
So nobly died this unknown hero of the war ; 

And heroes, near and far, 
Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or 
story — 
But theirs is more than glory ! 



MEMORIAL DAY. 

I. 

She saw the bayonets flashing in the sun, 

The flags that proudly waved ; she heard the 

bugles calling ; 

She saw the tattered banners falling 

About the broken staffs, as one by one 

The remnant of the mighty army passed ; 

And at the last 

Flowers for the graves of those whose fight was 

done. 

II. 

She heard the tramping of ten thousand feet 

As the long line swept round the crowded square; 



30 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

She heard the incessant hum 
That filled the warm and blossom-scented air — 
The shrilling fife, the roll and throb of drum, 
The happy laugh, the cheer. Oh, glorious and 

meet 
To honor thus the dead, 
Who chose the better part, 
And for their country bled ! 
— The dead ! Great God ! she stood there in the 

street, 
Living, yet dead in soul, and mind, and heart — 
While far away 
His grave was decked with flowers by strangers' 

hands to-day. 



THE NORTH TO THE SOUTH. 

Land of the South, — whose stricken heart and 
brow 

Bring grief to eyes that erewhile only knew 
For their own loss to sorrow, — spurn not thou 

These tribute tears ; ah, we have suffered too. 

New Orleans, 1885. 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE. 

READ AT THE ANNUAL REUNION OF THE SOCIETY OF 
THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON, 
JUNE 27, 1893. 

Comrades, the circle narrows, heads grow white, 
As once more by the camp-fire's flaring light 
We gather and clasp hands, as we have done 
These many, many years. So long ago 
A part we were of all that glorious show, — 
Stood, side by side, 'neath the red battle-sun, — 
So long ago we breathed war's thunderous breath, 
Knew the white fury of that life-in-death, 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 33 

So long ago that troubled joy, it seems 

The valorous pageant might resolve to splendid 

dreams. 
But no ! Too deep 't is burned into the brain ! 
As well were lightning-scar by summer rain 
Washed clean away, when stroke on blinding 

stroke 
Hath torn the rock, and riven the blackened oak. 
How oft as down these peaceful streets we pass 
All vanishes save, lo ! the rutted grass, 
Wrecked caissons, frightened beasts, and, merciful 

God! 

The piteous burden of the flowering sod ! 

Yet not all terror doth the memory save 

From war's emblazonry and open grave : 

In glimpses, flashing like a meteor's light, 
3 



34 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

A silent army marches through the night ; 
The guidons flutter in some golden valley 
Where, at the noonday halt, the horsemen dally 
Or, look ! a thousand tents gleam through the 

black ; 
Or, now, where quick-built camp-fires flame and 

crack, 
From blaze to shade men stretch o'erwearied 

limbs, 
Chant songs, or wake the hills with chorused 

hymns ; 
Or, ere the dawn makes pale the starry dark, 
The fiery signals, spark on trailing spark, 
Write on the silent sky their still command, 
While the great army moves, drawn by a single 

hand. 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 35 

So LONG ago it seems, so long ago, 
Behold, our sons, grown men since those great 

days, — 
Born since the last clear bugle ceased to blow 
Its summons down the valley; since the bays 
Shook with the roar of fort and answering fleet, — 
Our very children look into our eyes 
And find strange records, with a mute surprise ; 
As they some curious traveler might greet 
Who kept far countries in his musing mind, 
Beyond the weltering seas, the mountain-walls 
behind. 
And yet it was this land, and not another, 
Where blazed war's flame and rolled the battle- 
cloud. 
In all this land there was no home where brother, 






36 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Father, or son hurried not forth ; where bowed 
No broken-hearted woman when pale Death 
Laid his cold finger on the loved one's breath. 

Like to a drama did the scene unroll — 
Some dark, majestic drama of the soul, 
Wherein all strove as actors, hour by hour, 
Yet breathless watched the whole swift, tragic 

play. 
Faithful did each his little part essay, 
Urged to an end unknown by one all-knowing 

Power ; 
While if the drama pauses, now and then, 
On the huge stage, 't is for a moment only — 
Here at the heart or in some vista lonely, 
A single hero or a million men, 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 37 

And with the tragic theme the world resounds 
again. 

First, in the awful waiting came the shock, 
The shame unbearable, the sacred flag assailed — 
Assailed in freedom's name by those who freedom 
^^ mock! 

Ah, then the oath, to stand as stands the rock 
'Gainst flood and tempest, lest that flag be trailed 
And torn, or any star therefrom be lost — 
The oath, murmured alone, or where the crowd, 
As by a wind of heaven swept and tost, 
Passioned its soul to God, and strong men wept 
aloud. 

Then sweet farewell ! O bitter-sweet farewell ; 
O brave farewell ! Who were the bravest then, 

Or they who went, or waited — women or men ? 

3* 



38 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

They who the cheers heard, or the funeral knell ? 
They who stepped proudly to the rattling drum, 
Inflamed by war's divine delirium, 
Or they who knew no mad joy of the fight, 
And yet breathed on through waiting day and 
weeping night ? 

Farewell and forward ! Oh, to live it over, 
The first wild heart-beat of heroic hours ! 
Forward, like mountain-torrents after showers ! 
Forward to death, as to his bride the lover ! 
Forward, till quick recoils the impetuous flood, 
And ends the first dread scene in terror and in 
blood ! 
Onward once more, through sun and shivering 
storm, — 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 39 

A monstrous length with wavering bulk enorm, — 
Wounded or striking, bringing blood or bleeding, 
Onward, still on, the agony unheeding ! 
Onward with failing heart, or courage high ! 
Onward through heat, and hunger, and dismay, 
Turning the starry night to murderous day ! 
Onward, with hope appalled, once more to strike, 
and die ! 

So MARCHED, so fought, so agonized, the 

hosts ; 
Battling through forests ; rotting where slow 

crawls 
The deathly swamp- stream ; and like pallid 

ghosts 
Haunting the hospitals, and loathed prison-walls. 






40 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

They knew what freedom was, and right to 

breathe 
Clean air who burrowed from the filth and seethe 
Of foulest pens, only that dogs might track, 
And to the death-pit drag their living corpses 

back. 
Oh, would to Heaven some sights could fade 

from out 
Clear memory's all too melancholy page — 
Fade and be gone forever ! Let the shout 
Of victory only linger, and the rage 
And glory of battle over land and sea, 
And all that noblest is in war's fierce pageantry. 

Echoes of deeds immortal, Oh, awake ! 
Tremble to language, into music break, 
Till lyric memory takes the old emotion, 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 41 

And leaps from heart to heart the ancient thrill ! 
Tell of great deeds that yet the wide earth fill : 
How first upon the amazed waves of ocean 
The black, infernal, deadly armored-ships 
Together rushed, and all the world stood still, 
While a new word of war burst from those iron 

lips; 
How up the rivers thundered the strong fleets ; 
How the great captains 'gainst each other dashed 
Gigantic armies. What wild welcome meets 
Some well-loved chief who, ere those armies 

clashed, 
Rides like a whirlwind the embattled line, 
Kindling the stricken ranks to bravery divine ! 
And, hark, at set of sun, the cheer that greets 
Victorious news from far-off armies, flashed 



42 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

From camp to camp, with roar on answering roar, 
Like bellowing waves that track the tempest 

down the shore. 
But chiefly tell of that one hour of all 
When threatening war rolled highest its full tide, 
Even to the perilous northern mountain-side 
Where Heaven should bid our good cause rise or 

fall. 
Tell of that hour, for never in all the world 
Was braver army against braver hurled. 
To both the victory, all unawares, 
Beyond all dreams of losing or of winning; 
For the new land which now is ours and theirs, 
Had on that topmost day its glorious beginning. 
They who charged up that drenched and 

desperate slope 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 43 

Were heroes all — and looked in heroes' eyes ! 
Ah ! heroes never heroes did despise ! 
That day had Strife its bloodiest bourn and scope ; 
Above the shaken hills and sulphurous skies 
Peace lifted up her mournful head and smiled on 
Hope. 

RUSHED the great drama on its tragic way 
Swift to the happy end from that tremendous day. 
Happy, indeed, could memory lose her power 
And yield to joy alone the glad, triumphant hour; 
Happy if every aching heart could shun 
Remembrance of the unreturning one ; 
If at the Grand Review, when mile on mile 
And day on day the marching columns passed, 
Darkened not o'er the world the shadow vast 



44 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Of his foul murder — he the free from guile, 
Sad-hearted, loving, and beloved, and wise, 
Who ruled with sinewy hands and dreaming eyes. 
What soul that lived then who remembers not 
The hour, the landscape, ah ! the very spot, — 
Hateful for aye, — where news that he was slain 
Fell like a hammer on the dazed brain ! 



So LONG ago it was, so long ago, 
All, all have passed ; the terror and the splendor 
Have turned like yester-evening's stormy glow 
Into a sunset memory strange and tender. 
How beautiful it seems, what lordly sights, 
What deeds sublime, what wondrous days and 
nights, 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 45 

What love of comrades, ay, what quickened 

breath, 
When first we knew that, startled, quailing, still 
We too, even we, along the blazing hill, 
We, with the best, could face and conquer death ! 



Glorious all these, but these all less than 

nought 
To the one passion of those days divine, 
Love of the land our own hearts' blood had 

bought — 
Our country, our own country, yours and mine, 
Then known, then sternly loved, first in our lives. 
Ah ! loved we not our children, sisters, wives? 
But our own country, this was more than they, — 



46 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Our wives, our children, this, — our hope, our 

love 
For all most dear, but more — the dawning day 
Of freedom for the world, the hope above 
All hope for the sad race of man. For where, 
In what more lovely world, 'neath skies more fair, 
If freedom here should fail, could it find soil and 

air? 
In this one thought, one passion, — whate'er 

fate 
Still may befall, — one moment we were great! 
One moment in life's brief, perplexed hour 
We climbed the height of being, and the power 
That falls alone on those who love their kind 
A moment made us one with the Eternal Mind. 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 47 

One moment, ah ! not so, dear Country ! Thou 
Art still our passion; still to thee we bow 
In love supreme ! Fairer than e'er before 
Art thou to-day, from golden shore to shore 
The home of freemen. Not one stain doth cling 
Now to rhy banner. Argosies of war 
On thy imperial rivers bravely fling 
Flags of the nations, but no message bring 
Save of peace only ; while, behold, from far 
The Old World comes to greet thy natal star 
That with the circling century returns, 
And in the Western heavens with fourfold beauty 
burns. 

Land that we love ! Thou Future of the World ! 
Thou refuge of the noble heart oppressed ! 



48 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Oh never be thy shining image hurled 
From its high place in the adoring breast 
Of him who worships thee with jealous love ! 
Keep thou thy starry forehead as the dove 
All white, and to the eternal Dawn inclined ! 
Thou art not for thyself but for mankind, 
And to despair of thee were to despair 
Of man, of man's high destiny, of God ! 
Of thee should man despair, the journey trod 
Upward, through unknown eons, stair on stair, 
By this our race, with bleeding feet and slow, 
Were but the pathway to a darker woe 
Than yet was visioned by the heavy heart 
Of prophet. To despair of thee ! Ah no ! 
For thou thyself art Hope, Hope of the World 
thou art ! 



THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE 49 

Comrades beloved, see, the fire burns low, 

And darkness thickens. Soon shall our brief part 

On earth forever end, and we shall go 

To join the unseen ranks; nor will we swerve 

Or fear, when to the silent, great reserve 

At last we ordered are — as one by one 

Our Captains have been called, their labors done, 

To rest and wait in the Celestial Field. 

Ay, year by year, we to the dead did yield 

Our bravest. Them we followed to the tomb 

Sorrowing; for they were worthy of our love — 

High-souled and generous, loving peace above 

War and its glories ; therefore lives no gloom 

In this our sorrow ; rather pride, and praise, 

And gratitude, and memory of old days. 

A little while and these tired hands shall cease 
4 



50 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

To lift obedient or in war or peace — 
Faithful we trust in peace as erst in war ; 
And on the scroll of peace some triumphs are 
Noble as battles won ; though less resounds 
The fame, as deep and bitter are the wounds. 

But now the fire burns low, and we must sleep 
Erelong, while other eyes than ours the vigil keep. 
And after we are gone, to other eyes 
That watch below shall come, in starry skies, 
A fairer dawn, whereon in fiery light 
The Eternal Captain shall his signals write ; 
And shaken from rest, and gazing at that sign, 
On shall the mighty Nation move, led by a hand 
divine. 



"NAVIES NOR ARMIES CAN EXALT 
THE STATE." 

TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, ON HIS SEVENTIETH 
BIRTHDAY. 

Navies nor armies can exalt the state, — 
Millions of men, nor coined wealth untold : 
Down to the pit may sink a land of gold ; 

But one great name can make a country great. 



LOWELL. 

I 

From the shade of the elms that murmured above 

thy birth 
And the pines that sheltered thy life and 

shadowed the end, 
'Neath the white- blue skies thee to thy rest we 

bore — 
'Neath the summer skies thou didst love, 'mid the 

songs of thy birds, 
By thy childhood's stream, 'neath the grass and 

the flowers thou knewest, 



LOWELL 53 

Near the grave of the singer whose name with 

thine own is enlaureled, 
By the side of the brave who live in thy deathless 

song, 
Here all that was mortal of thee we left, with our 

tears, 
With our love, and our grief that could not be 

quenched or abated; 
For even the part that was mortal, sweet friend 

and companion : 
That face, and that figure of beauty, and flashing 

eye 
Which in youth shone forth like a god's 'mid 

lesser men, 

And in gray-haired, strenuous age still glowed 

and lustered, — 
4* 



54 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

These, too, were dear to us, — blame us not, 
soaring spirit ! 

These, too, were dear, and now we shall never 
behold them, 

Nor ever shall feel the quick clasp of thy welcom- 
ing hand. 



II 

But not for ourselves alone are we spent in 
grieving: 

For the stricken Land we mourn whose light is 
darkened, 

Whose soul in sorrow went forth in the night- 
time with thine. 

Lover and laureate thou of the wide New World, 



LOWELL 55 

Whose pines and prairies and people and 

teeming soil, 
Where was shaken of old the seed of the freedom 

of men, 
Thou didst love as a strong man loveth the 

maiden he woos, — 
Not the woman he toys with, and sings to, and, 

passing, forgets, — 
Whom he woos, whom he wins, whom he weds ; 

his passion, his pride, 
Who no shadow of wrong shall suffer, who shall 

stand in his sight 
Pure as the sky of the evil her foeman may 

threat, 
Save by word or by thought of her own in her 

whiteness untouched, 



56 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

And wounded alone of the lightning her spirit 
engenders. 

Ill 
Take of thy grief new strength, new life, O Land ! 
Weep no more he is lost, but rejoice and be glad 

forever 
That thy lover who died was born for thy 

pleasure, thy glory — 
While his love and his fame light ever thy 
climbing path. 
August 14, 1891. 



SCORN. 

Who are the men that good men most despise ? 
Not they who, ill begot, and spawned in shame 
Riot and rob, or rot before men's eyes ; 
Who basely live, and dying leave no name. 

These are the piteous refuse of mankind ; 

Fatal the ascendant star when they were born 
Distort in body, starved in soul and mind. 
Ah, not for them the good man's bitter scorn. 



58 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

He, only, is the despicable one 

Who lightly sells his honor as a shield 

For fawning knaves, to hide them from the sun. 

Too nice for crime yet, coward, he doth yield 
For crime a shelter. Swift to Paradise 
The contrite thief, not Judas with his price ! 



FAILURE AND SUCCESS. 

He fails who climbs to power and place 
Up the pathway of disgrace. 
He fails not who makes truth his cause, 
Nor bends to win the crowd's applause. 
He fails not — he who stakes his all 
Upon the right, and dares to fall. 
What though the living bless or blame, 
For him the long success of fame. 






A HERO OF PEACE. 

IN MEMORY OF ROBERT ROSS: SHOT AT TROY, NEW 
YORK, ON ELECTION DAY, MARCH 6, 1 894, WHILE 
DEFENDING THE FREEDOM OF THE BALLOT. 

I. 

" No bugle on the blast 

Calls warriors face to face ; 
Grim battle being forever past 
Gone is the hero-race." 

II. 

Ah no ! there is no peace ! 
— If liberty shall live 



A HERO OF PEACE 61 

Never may freemen dare to cease 
Their love, their life to give. 



III. 
Unto the patriot's heart 

The silent summons comes ; 
Not braver he who does his part 

To the sound of beating drums. 



IV. 

And thou who gavest youth, 
And life, and all most dear ; 

Sweet soul, impassionate of truth, 
White on thy murdered bier ! — 



62 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

V. 
Thy deed, thy date, thy name 

Are wreathed with deathless flowers. 
Thy fate shall be the guiding flame 

That lights to nobler hours. 



A WINTER TWILIGHT IN PROVENCE. 

ST.-REMY DE PROVENCE, JANUARY, 1 896. 

A STRANGER in a far and ancient land, 

At evening-light I wander. Shade on shade 

The mountain valleys darken, and the plain 

Grows dim beneath a chill and iron sky. 

The trees of peace take the last gray of day — 

Day that shone soft on olives, misty-green, 

And aisles of wind -forbidding cypresses, 

And long, white roads, whitely with plane-trees 

lined, 
And farms content, and happy villages, — 
A land that lies close in the very heart 



64 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Of history, — and brave, and free, and gay ; 
In all its song lingering one tone of pain. 
But now the wintry twilight silent falls, 
And ghosts of other days stalk the lone fields ; 
While through yon sunk and immemorial road, 
Rock-furrowed, rough, and like a torrent's bed, 
Far-stretching into night 'twixt twilight farms, 
I see in dream the unhistoried armies pass, 
With barbarous banners trailing 'gainst the 

gloom ; 
Then, in a thought's flash (centuries consumed), 
In this deep path a stern, and refluent wave, 
Brims the confined and onward-pressing march 
With standards slantwise borne ; so, to the 

mind, 
The all-conquering eagle northward takes its 

flight, 



A WINTER TWILIGHT IN PROVENCE. 65 

And one stern empire widens o'er the world. 

There looms the arch of war where once, long 

gone, 

In these still fields, against those thymy slopes, 

An alien city reared imperial towers : 

See sculptured conqueror, and slave in chains 

Mournful a myriad years ; and near the arch 

The heaven-climbing, templed monument 

Embossed with horse and furious warrior ! 

Millenniums have sped since those grim wars 

Here grimly carved, the wonder of the churl, 

The very language dead those warriors cried. 

Deepens the dusk, and on the neighboring height 

A rock-hewn palace cuts the edge of day 

In giant ruins stark against the sky : 

Ah, misery ! I know their piteous tale 
5 



66 "FOR THE COUNTRY" 

Of armed injustice, monstrous, treacherous 

force. 
Deepens the dusk, and the enormous towers, 
Still lording o'er a living city near, 
Are lost to sight ; but not to thought are lost 
A hundred stories of the old-time curse — 
War and its ravagings. Deepens the dusk 
On westward mountains black with olden crime 
And steeped in blood spilled in the blessed name 
Of him the Roman soldiers crucified — 
The Prince of Peace. Deepens the dusk, and all 
The nearer landscape glimmers into dark, 
And nought shows clear save yonder wayside 

cross 
Against the lurid west whose dying gleam 
Of ghastly sunlight frights the brooding soul. 



A WINTER TWILIGHT IN PROVENCE 67 

Dear country mine ! far in that viewless west, 
And ocean- warded, strife thou too hast known ; 
But may thy sun hereafter bloodless shine, 
And may thy way be onward without wrath, 
And upward on no carcase of the slain ; 
And if thou smitest, let it be for peace 
And justice — not in hate, or pride, or lust 
Of empire. Mayst thou ever be, O land ! 
Noble and pure as thou art free and strong : 
So shalt thou lift a light for all the world 
And for all time, and bring the Age of Peace. 



THE HEROIC AGE. 

He speaks not well who doth his time deplore, 

Naming it new and little and obscure, 

Ignoble and unfit for lofty deeds. 

All times were modern in the time of them, 

And this no more than others. Do thy part 

Here in the living day, as did the great 

Who made old days immortal ! So shall men, 

Gazing long back to this far-looming hour, 

Say: "Then the time when men were truly men : 

Though wars grew less, their spirits met the test 

Of new conditions; conquering civic wrong; 



THE HEROIC AGE 69 

Saving the state anew by virtuous lives; 
Guarding the country's honor as their own, 
And their own as their country's and their sons': 
Defying leagued fraud with single truth; 
Not fearing loss; and daring to be pure. 
When error through the land raged like a pest, 
They calmed the madness caught from mind to 

mind 
By wisdom drawn from eld, and counsel sane; 
And as the martyrs of the ancient world 
Gave Death for man, so nobly gave they Life: 
Those the great days, and that the heroic age." 



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